


Someone In Your Corner

by De_Marvel_Bunny



Series: Tony Stark & Co. [17]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Depressed Tony Stark, Gen, Hurt Tony Stark, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark Friendship, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Not Spider-Man: Homecoming Compliant, Not Steve Rogers Friendly, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Loves Tony Stark, Peter Parker is a Good Bro, Peter Parker-centric, Precious Peter Parker, Precious Tony Stark, Protective Natasha Romanov, Protective Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, References to Depression, Team Iron Man, The Author Regrets Nothing, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Defense Squad, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Gets a Hug, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Has Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Tony Stark Loves Peter Parker, Tony Stark deserves happiness, Tony Stark-centric, don't worry it doesn't happen tho, not team Cap friendly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:34:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23024875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/De_Marvel_Bunny/pseuds/De_Marvel_Bunny
Summary: Peter Parker is a normal teenager living in Queens with his aunt. Except, he isn't. And Tony Stark knows that.When the famous billionaire superhero Tony Stark comes to recruit Peter Parker, the boy is thrown into the mess that is the 'Civil War'. But more than that, he witnesses what it does to his mentor. So when the Rogue Avengers come back, he can't help but give them a piece of his mind.or,I wrote one giant shovel talk because I love Tony(Now featuring a bonus chapter: Peter punches Steve :D)
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark, Tony Stark & Avengers Team
Series: Tony Stark & Co. [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1286990
Comments: 158
Kudos: 981
Collections: Peter Parker Stories, ellie marvel fics - read





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Syncronoged2438](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syncronoged2438/gifts).



> I wanted to do this as a huge one-shot but I reached 10k words and it was becoming hard to oversee so I decided to split it up in chapters. As opposed to my other multi-chaptered fics, I have pre-written this one and can update regularly.
> 
> Maybe some slight trigger warnings in this story- there are mentions of depression and suicide, though not heavily implied past a single reference. Still, if it's something you're sensitive to, please keep that in mind before you read this.
> 
> Not beta'd, English is also not my first language so all mistakes are either mine or Grammarly's.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter Parker meets Tony Stark

Peter opened the door to his apartment, music playing in his ears and an old DVD player clutched under his arm. Today had been a good day, so naturally, Peter was in a good mood. He was sure he aced his algebra test which he had been a little nervous for, and Liz had even smiled at him when they passed each other in the hallway. 

"Hey, May," he called when he got inside.

"Hey," he heard May reply. "How was school?" Peter put away the DVD player, dropping his bag carelessly on the floor.

"It was okay," he replied, pulling out his earphones. "There was this crazy car parked outside-" He trailed off, freezing in place when he looked over to the couch where his aunt was. Next to her was Tony Stark. _The_ Tony Stark. The genius, billionaire, superhero, literally the coolest person alive in Peter's opinion. And he was casually sitting on the couch in Peter's apartment, one of May's horrible oatmeal cookies in his hand. The superhero turned his head to Peter as if he'd just noticed him.

"Ah, Mr. Parker," he said. _Oh my god,_ Peter's mind squeaked. _He sounds just like Tony Stark!_ Which was a stupid thought, but Peter had grown up watching this man speaking on TV, he'd recognize that voice everywhere. It was just so strange to hear that voice now, saying _his_ name, those piercing eyes looking directly at _him_.

"What? What are you-" _No, not the right question. Introduce yourself, dork._ "I'm- I'm, I'm Peter," he stuttered, waving with his hands awkwardly before settling them crossed over his chest, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious about his nerdy shirt.

"Tony," Mr. Stark said. _Like I didn't know that yet._

"What are you, what are you, what are you doing here?" He stumbled over his words a bit, trying to look composed in front of his all-time favorite person (apart from May, of course. Sometimes) while his heart was beating loudly in his chest. He was almost afraid the man's intelligent eyes would spot his racing heart from where he was sitting on the couch. _Come on, Parker. You're like a stuttering fangirl, man up, dude._

"'bout time we met," the billionaire said, intelligent eyes twinkling knowingly. The back of Peter's mind absently noted how the cameras had never fully been able to capture the deepness of those chocolate brown eyes. "You've been getting my emails, right?" Mr. Stark winked with his bruised eye before switching to his other one. "Right?"

"... Yeah," Peter answered, confused. He eyed May, who looked excited for a reason Peter didn't know. "Regarding the..."

"You didn't even tell me about the grant," May cut in, looking confused.

"About the grant," Peter said, trying to act like he knew what grant he was talking about. 

"The September Foundation," Mr. Stark provided helpfully, looking to the world like they had actually been emailing each other about this. "Remember when you applied?"

 _No_ , Peter thought.

"... Yeah," Peter said.

"I approved," Tony said, still looking at him with that intelligent gaze. He knew something Peter didn't. "So, now we're in business." He gave him a look that seemed to scream _'just go along with it, kid'_ before looking away, taking a sip of his tea, completely relaxed.

"You didn't tell me anything, what's up with that?" May said, now looking a bit hurt. Peter was still trying to process the fact that Tony freaking Stark just said they were 'in business'. "You keeping secrets from me?"

"Well, I- I just, I know how much you love... surprises," he eyed the billionaire on the couch, "so I thought I would let you know... what... Anyway," he turned back to his idol (who was in _his apartment holy shit_ ). "What did I apply for?"

"That's why I'm here to hash it out," Mr. Stark answered casually. 

"Okay... Hash- hash it out. Okay." _Just casually hashing out something I didn't apply for with Tony Stark. Sure._

"It's so hard for me to believe she's someone's aunt," Mr. Stark suddenly commented, a smile on his face but a look Peter couldn't place in his eyes. It was sad, almost... longing. May looked vaguely irritated by that even if she tried to laugh it off.

"Well, we come in all shapes and sizes, you know," she said, not looking at him.

"This walnut date loaf's exceptional," he complimented. _Um yeah, no._

"Let me just stop you there," Peter cut in. "Is this grant, like, it got money involved, or whatever? No...?" He asked bravely. He might as well just get something out of this besides embarrassing himself in front of his idol.

"Yeah... It's pretty well-funded," Mr. Stark said. "Look who you're talking to." _Tony freaking Stark!_ His fanboying mind screamed. Mr. Stark turned to May. "Can I have five minutes with him?"

"Sure," May said. _No, nononono,_ Peter's mind screamed. _Hell no._

But Mr. Stark was already getting up, looking at him expectantly.

"O-okay," Peter stuttered, turning around and leading the way to his bedroom which he _totally should have cleaned up, shit_.

When they got inside Peter immediately fled to the other side of the room while Mr. Stark closed the door. Peter heard the lock click, feeling the man's eyes on him. Mr. Stark immediately walked over to the trash bin, spitting out the no doubt disgusting cookie.

"As walnut date loaves go, that wasn't bad." Peter doubted that. The billionaire turned to look at Peter's messy desk, commenting on his scrappy collection. Peter responded kind of on autopilot, his mind still reeling with the fact that _Tony Stark was in his bedroom_. Ned was totally going to freak out. 

"Look, um... I definitely didn't apply for your grant," Peter said, but Tony interrupted him.

"Na-ah, me first." Peter shut his mouth with an audible click. "Quick question of the... rhetorical variety..." He held up what looked like a phone, showing a 3D hologram of Peter swinging around in his suit. Now, he looked quite impressed. "That's _you_ , right?" He asked. Peter's heart was beating in his throat.

"Um, no," he said, feeling like his brain was malfunctioning. How the hell did he find out? "What do you- what do you mean- that's all on YouTube though, right? That's where you found it. Because you know that's all fake, it's all done on a computer." Mr. Stark just hummed in acknowledgment. "It's like that video..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Oh, you mean those UFOs over Phoenix?" Mr. Stark said absentmindedly. Peter noticed a little too late how he picked up the stick leaning against the wall, pushing open the ceiling hatch which was definitely the best place Peter could've hidden the suit that came tumbling out. Peter quickly pulled it out, hiding it in his closet. But the damage was done.

"So," Mr. Stark said, coming to stand in front of him. "You're the Spider...ling. Crime-fighting Spider. You're Spider-Boy?" Peter sighed.

"S-Spider-Man," he muttered feeling ridiculous for the name now.

"Not in that onesie, you're not," Mr. Stark scoffed. Peter had the guts to look offended.

"It's not a onesie." Mr. Stark seemed unfazed. So while Peter rambled about his good day, the billionaire pulled out the suit.

"Who else knows?"

"Nobody." Peter felt the disappointment in his secret being outed weigh heavily in his stomach. Even Tony Stark complimenting the tensile strength of his webbing didn't manage to lift his spirits. 

"You're in dire need of an upgrade. That's why I'm here." Peter flopped down on his bed. When he looked up, all the playfulness in the superhero's eyes was replaced with a heavy look Peter couldn't identify. "Why are you doing this? I gotta know- what's your MO, what gets you out of that twin bed in the morning?"

Peter thought back to what his uncle had told him before he'd died. _"With great power comes great responsibility._ "

"Because when you can do the things that I can, but you don't, and _then_ the bad things happen... they happen because of you."

Mr. Stark looked away then, the chatty, slightly immature personality he'd shown earlier replaced with something heavy, tired.

"So, you wanna look out for the little guy, you wanna... do your part, make the world a better place and all that, right?" He said, for the first time looking at his hands instead of his surroundings or that piercing gaze with which he'd looked at Peter.

"Yeah, yeah. Just- just looking out for the little guy," Peter said, glad he understood. Mr. Stark stood up with a sigh, slightly favoring his right side, moving over to where Peter was sitting. 

"I'm gonna sit here so you move the leg," he ordered. This time when he looked away, Peter knew it was a power play. He'd been reading up on body language and he knew that when the man didn't give Peter his attention when he talked, it was more a power move than anything else. Still, it prevented Peter from seeing the look in his eyes. He moved his leg, allowing the man to sit beside him. He felt a hand clasp his shoulder and ignored the part of him absolutely freaking out about it.

"You ever been to Germany?"

"N-no,"

"Oh, you'll love it."

"Mr. Stark, I can't go to Germany."

"Why?"

"I- I got... homework." He felt lame saying it. _I should've just said school..._ he groaned inwardly.

"Alright, I'm gonna pretend you didn't say that." Mr. Stark stood up, walking over to the door.

"No, I'm- I'm being serious! I can't just... drop out of school!"

"-might be a little dangerous," Mr. Stark was saying. "Might want to tell aunt Hottie I'm taking you on a field trip-"

Before Peter knew what he was doing, his hero's hand was tied to the door with his webbing.

"Do _not_ tell Aunt May," Peter said, almost desperate. He couldn't do that to her, not right now. Not... not ever.

"Alright, Spider-Man," Mr. Stark said. Peter allowed his mind to freak out about is idol saying his superhero name for a little bit. "Now, get me out of this."

"R-right. S-sorry. I'll get the..." he trailed off, grabbing a little knife before cutting away the web. He looked up at his hero who met his gaze, another strong emotion in his eyes that Peter, again, couldn't put a name to. He knew the man was a mystery. His eyes, however, seemed to be one entirely on their own. Mr. Stark unlocked the door and waltzed out. Peter waited until he heard the front door clicking shut before dropping on his bed.

"Holy shit..." he whispered underneath his breath. "I gotta tell Ned."


	2. Chapter 2

A man named Happy picked him up. Peter said goodbye to May before hopping out of the apartment building, suitcase in hand, unable to hide his excitement.

"Hi!" He greeted the driver (he had a _driver_ ). "I'm Peter."

"I should hope you are," the man said, not taking the outstretched hand. "Or else I would've been at the wrong apartment." He took Peter's suitcase, throwing it in the back. Peter, unfazed by the man's behavior, clambered into the back of the car, marveling at the comfiness of the seat. He waved at his aunt as they drove off before fishing in his backpack for his camera.

 _"New York, Queens. It's a rough borrow, but hey, it's home_. _"_ He narrated as he filmed the highway.

"Who are you talking to?" Happy questioned from the driver's seat.

"No one," Peter peeped in his normal voice. "Just making a little video of the trip."

"You know you can't show it to anyone."

"Yeah, I know," Peter said, totally planning on showing it to Ned when he got back home. 

"Then why are you narrating in that voice?"

"Uh, cuz it's fun!"

"Fine," Happy grunted, putting on his sunglasses.

"So... why'd they call you 'Happy'?" Peter asked, trying for casual conversation. Happy's response was to roll up the dividing window, leaving Peter to record his reflection.

After flying on a private plane, walking through Berlin and talking selfies everywhere they came to their hotel. Peter put on his suit, recording his pep talk in the mirror when Happy came in.

"What the hell are you wearing?"

Peter looked down. "It's my suit."

"Where's the case?"

Apparently, Peter's room was _way_ bigger than he thought. Through a door that was apparently still his room, there was a case lying on the table. When he opened it, Spider-lenses looked back at him, holograms at the side showing his web-shooters.

It was insane. He happily put on his new suit, which seemed to just _fit_ the way nothing ever had before. Happy, who was apparently in a hurry, almost dragged him out of the hotel. There was a car parked out front, and the door opened to Tony Stark himself stepping out, dressed in a simple shirt, jeans, and jacket, sunglasses hiding his eyes from view.

"Calm down, Hap. His aunt will want him back in one piece," he joked lightly, although he sounded nervous.

"Sorry, boss," Happy grunted. "He wasn't exactly fast."

"Yeah, well," Mr. Stark looked at his watch. "We've got time. Come on, Parker. Get in the car." He opened the back door and Peter slid in, taking off his mask as soon as the door closed, the tinted windows hiding his face. 

_"You alright, Boss?"_ His enhanced hearing picked up Happy's voice from outside the car. He heard Mr. Stark take a deep breath, letting it out a bit shakily. Through the windows, he saw a hand coming up to rub at his chest. The hand was shaking.

 _"Yeah, Happy. I'm fine. Just- how about you drive, alright?"_ He said. Peter frowned. Happy was the driver, right?

 _"Sure, Tony."_ Happy's voice was softer, not only in volume but also in tone. He clapped his boss on the shoulder before sliding into the driver's seat, Mr. Stark walking around the car to slide in the back. Peter immediately tried to look like he hadn't been listening to their conversation, but Mr. Stark didn't look at him. As soon as the car started driving, Mr. Stark took off his sunglasses, rubbing a shaking hand over his eyes. He seemed to take a few deep breaths before slipping the shades back on.

"So, Parker," he said, looking composed. His voice sounded slightly unsteady. "I don't want you to get yourself in any danger, alright? I just need to convince... the others to come with us. Shouldn't take too long, if they're smart they'll listen and you can go back home. Should- should they not, and it leads to fighting, I want you to stay on the sidelines, alright? Don't do anything reckless. I don't want your aunt to kill me when I drop you off."

"Understood, sir," Peter replied immediately. Mr. Stark seemed to deflate, dropping his head in the palm of his hand.

"This is madness," Peter heard him mutter. "I'm sorry I dragged you into this, kid. I wish I didn't have to. I just..." He trailed off, his right hand gripping his wrist tightly. He breathed in deep breaths, releasing them slowly, his posture rigid. Peter didn't know what to say, so he stayed silent. He noticed Happy shooting looks at the backseat through the rearview mirror.

"You alright, Boss?"

"I'm fine," Mr. Stark said through a clenched jaw. "Just drive fast."

Mr. Stark didn't say anything else, so Peter stayed silent as well. He looked outside a bit, the nerves building in his stomach. At first, he'd been kind of excited to meet the other Avengers. He knew all about them, followed them on the news and social media, and talked about them non-stop with Ned. They'd both been a bit shocked when there'd been new additions to the team, namely the one they called Scarlet Witch.

"Wasn't she HYDRA?" He remembered asking out loud when they'd read the news article about her.

"I thought she had willingly sided with both HYDRA and Ultron," Ned had said with a frown. "Why would they let her on the team?"

"Apparently Hawkeye refused to answer any questions about her, they're saying he's treating her like his kid or something," Peter had read between the lines. They'd talked about it for a while until their next class started. They'd dropped the topic after that, but Peter was still skeptical about her. 

"Mr. Stark?" Peter dared to speak up after a few minutes. Mr. Stark grunted in acknowledgment. "Who exactly is the Scarlet Witch?"

The effect was immediate. The billionaire's tense posture turned absolutely rigid, and Peter heard his heartbeat pick up in speed. He was breathing heavier, faster.

"She was a victim of HYDRA. The Avengers took her in," he said in a monotone voice. Peter regretted asking, seeing the effect it had on the superhero. But he couldn't help but notice that the man's response sounded like it was a line, one he'd rehearsed to say.

"Was she a victim, though?" Peter asked, ignoring his pounding heart. This could end badly. He could piss Mr. Stark off and he'd drop him here, in the middle of Germany with no way to get back home. "I read she had willingly signed up for HYDRA, let scientists experiment on her, which is how she got her powers." Mr. Stark laughed, then, a hollow, bitter laugh that sent a shiver down Peter's spine.

"Oh, but that's exactly what happened to Cap, now, isn't it? Experiments, some super drug, and boom, you've got yourself a national icon. Why should the _Witch_ be any different?" His voice was dark, bitter. He spat out the name as if it were venom. "No, all the others saw was a young, innocent girl who'd _clearly_ been the victim in all that was done to her. Because she was the victim when she willingly signed up with HYDRA. She was a victim when she sided with Ultron. She was a victim when she tried to kill me, manipulated all our minds. Because as soon as she realized she was on the losing side, she helped us out. And that rectifies all she's done, all the mistakes she's made. Because she was a _victim_."

He took a deep, shuddering breath.

"I'm sorry, that was- that was out of line. She couldn't help what she'd done-"

"Sir," Peter interrupted. He didn't continue, but the billionaire shot him a quick look from behind his shades and didn't finish his sentence. But Peter had one more question. "Mr. Stark? Is this- this is hard for you, isn't it? Fighting your friends?"

For a moment it looked like the genius was going to reply with some snappy remark that would leave Peter holding back his tears, but the man seemed to stop himself at the last second. Peter couldn't see the man's eyes behind the heavy shades but he could feel his calculating gaze. Suddenly, the superhero let his head fall back with a groan.

"If Steve had just listened we wouldn't even be fighting in the first place. If he's smart, he'll listen this time and we can avoid it entirely. But his best friend is involved, which means the world can just suck it because the captain wants to keep his pet boyfriend who's currently wanted in all of the US. He's always had a stick up his ass, Rogers. But still... yeah. It's- it's hard," he confessed, slumping in his seat and gazing out the window.

From his peripheral vision, he saw Happy shooting a disbelieving look into the rearview mirror. Peter ignored him and, in a daring move, scooted closer to the billionaire, hoping his presence to have a grounding effect. He didn't know if it worked or not, but the man didn't snap at him so Peter counted it as a win. The rest of the ride he had a small smile on his face.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The airport battle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A major thank you to all the people who left kudos, a comment or even just read the story. I'm glad people seem to be enjoying this :)
> 
> Trigger warning: mentions of depression though it's really small

The battle was messy. Rogers had refused to even listen to what Mr. Stark had to say, which made Peter's blood boil. Weren't they supposed to be friends? He was mad at Ned sometimes but he always at least listened to the other. The Winter Soldier, or Bucky Barnes, whom this whole ordeal was about in the first place, didn't even get to speak for himself.

"Underoos!" 

Peter swung in and, in a moment of bravery, took the captain's shield with him, tying his hands together. That, unfortunately, didn't end up doing much for his side, but it did feel cool. Even though Mr. Stark had told him to stay on the sidelines, he couldn't help going after the captain when the opportunity presented itself. He ended up straining to hold up an airplane tarmac. Safe to say he didn't like Captain America any more after that.

When he ended up swapped away like an annoying fly by the suddenly giant man they called 'ant-man', he knew he probably had enough. Mr. Stark touched down closeby, ordering him to go home. Peter protested.

"You're going home or I'll call Aunt May," Mr. Stark threatened before blasting off. In the end, it was neither the threat nor the exhaustion that had him sauntering off the battlefield; it was the desperation and, dare he say, _fear_ in Mr. Stark's eyes. Mr. Stark didn't want him to get hurt, and Peter supposed the man had enough to worry about for now.

However, as he turned to look back at the 'battlefield', he couldn't help the want to go back and help out. Because the Avengers, a team, friends, _family_ even, were fighting each other like enemies. Earlier he'd seen the witch drop cars on Mr. Stark. And now he was watching helplessly as the War Machine armor fell from the sky, Iron Man chasing after it as fast as he could.

He wasn't fast enough.

The dark suit hit the ground hard, leaving a crater in its wake. From where Peter was standing, he could just make out Mr. Stark falling on his knees beside his best friend, his helmet retracting. The winged dude walked over, probably to apologize, but Tony shot him with his repulser, throwing the man back.

"Let's go, kid," Happy's voice sounded from behind him. Peter swallowed past the lump in his throat, feeling his eyes burn. This wasn't fair. Mr. Stark was just looking out for them, why wouldn't they just listen to him? Was it because of Ultron? Because Peter knew for a fact that Dr. Banner had been involved in that just as much as Mr. Stark had. But he'd fled the planet, and Mr. Stark was left to pick up the pieces. Always left to pick up the pieces.

Pushing down the boiling rage in his stomach, Peter got in Happy's car and they sped off, just as a jet touched down near the crash site, medical teams rushing out. Guilt weighing deep in his chest, Peter didn't look back.

* * *

Peter hadn't heard from Mr. Stark in a few months. He wasn't going to lie, he was concerned. He knew the man could've very possibly just forgotten about him (it wasn't like they were close, he probably didn't have time for a teenager), but Peter felt wrong about it. He'd asked Happy as soon as the man accidentally picked up one of his million calls, but Happy had just mumbled something vague and hung up. Peter had followed the news, he knew the Avengers had split up. The half Peter had fought in Germany were now criminals at large, accurately dubbed the 'Rogue Avengers'. Peter's blood boiled just thinking about them. If he felt angry, _betrayed_ even because they left, he couldn't even imagine how Mr. Stark must be feeling. Not only that, but Mr. Stark hadn't made a public appearance since Peter had last seen him.

So, being the genius that he was, Peter came up with a plan.

First, he'd go out patrolling like he always did. He was sure Mr. Stark had some sort of tracker in his suit that let him know where he was, maybe even with his vitals. So, to make it believable, Peter fought with the crispy night air until he was out of breath and then 'tripped', causing a loose piece of metal to cut his suit. It took a couple of tries (the suit was ridiculously sturdy) but the suit finally ripped, the metal cutting through his soft flesh. Peter didn't care much about that, it would heal within minutes, not even leaving a scar. But his suit was torn and, well, that just wouldn't do now, would it?

Peter swung over to Avengers (Stark?) Tower, trying to look like he felt bad about the minor tear. He stuck himself to the side of the building, biting his lip. He hadn't really thought about this part. The Tower was huge, how was he supposed to find Mr. Stark? And even if he did, how was he going to get in? He was sure using the normal entrance wasn't an option- security would probably drag him outside immediately and he'd be back where he was before.

As he was thinking, sticking to the side of the building, he heard a familiar sound. He turned around to see the Iron Man suit hovering behind him. His suit lenses grew wide.

"Mr. Stark!" He exclaimed. "I was looking for you, sir! You see, I maybe might have kind of-"

"Mr. Stark is on the 74th floor," a female voice that was definitely _not_ Tony Stark sounded from the suit's speakers.

"Who are you?" Peter asked, lenses squinting in suspicion.

"I am FRIDAY, Mr. Stark's artificial intelligence. He is currently... unavailable."

"Oh," Peter said intelligently. He wanted to ask so many questions (an AI? That was so _cool!_ ) but decided against it. "Should- should I come back another time? Or..."

"Mr. Stark is on the 74th floor," the AI repeated after a moment of silence. There was something in her voice- something tight, as if she knew what she was doing was wrong, but she was determined to do it anyway. Peter marveled at how advanced she was for just a moment before nodding and climbing up to the 74th floor. The suit still hovered behind him when he got there, and he was about to ask what to do next when one of the windows retracted, allowing him in.

Peter silently dropped to the floor. It was dark, lit by only a few soft lights. He pulled off his mask, looking around what seemed to be a living room with a kitchen. Everything was clean, tidy. No cups littering the sink, no dust on the shelves, no shoes carelessly dropped in a corner. Peter padded softly through the room, squinting in the dark to see a hunched figure on the couch in front of a black TV. Peter came closer, not knowing what to do or say. He wasn't even sure this was Mr. Stark.

Suddenly, the sound of a repulser filled the quiet of the room, the figure on the couch rising with a bright blue light pointed right at Peter.

"Who's there," a hoarse voice called.

"I-it's me, Mr. Stark," Peter said, hands raised in surrender. "Peter. Parker. Spider-Man?"

Mr. Stark lowered the gauntlet with a tired sigh, running a hand down his face.

"I know who you are, Parker." He dropped back onto the couch. And with dropped, I mean, _dropped_. Uncharacteristically graceless. Looking to the world like a man who'd given up. 

"Mr. Stark, are you okay?" Peter asked, concern in his voice. Stark barked out a humorless laugh, though even that didn't last long before he sighed again. A big, exhausted exhale that left the man rubbing his chest.

"I'm... fine."

"I'm sorry, sir, but you don't sound fine."

"Yeah, well. Maybe I'm not. Why should you care?"

Peter took a step back in shock. _What?_

"Mr. Stark, I _care_. I came here because I'm concerned," he confessed, not looking away from the hunched figure of his hero on the couch. The billionaire huffed.

"Care? You wanna know who else cared? Rogers. The Avengers in general. Look where caring got me. Oh, and don't even get me started on Rhodes. He cared, probably more than anyone. Now, look at what happened to him. Trust me, kid. Caring isn't gonna get you anywhere."

Peter resisted taking another step back. He wasn't sure who he was seeing in front of him, but it wasn't the kind, caring, passionate genius billionaire he'd come to know and love. His natural response was to get mad. Mr. Stark wasn't getting his point! And how _dare_ he try to push Peter away when he just wanted to help! But then he realized that wasn't what Tony needed right now. He needed someone to stay for once. Because everyone had left him, and he was afraid Peter would do the same.

"I'm not leaving you, Mr. Stark," he said softly. "I'm not going to abandon you like the others." Again, he felt that dark feeling of anger in the pit of his stomach. He clenched his hands tightly, taking a deep breath to calm himself down a bit. This wasn't what Mr. Stark needed right now.

"Yeah, well." Tony leaned back against the couch cushions. "They all say that, don't they. And yet I've always been alone."

"Mr. Stark, please-"

"Stop it, kid. Just- just stop!" Tony suddenly yelled out. Peter flinched at the volume but didn't back down. Tony finally stood, the lights turning on a little bit more so Peter could see him. Peter had to fight to keep his expression neutral, clenching his mask tightly in his fist. Tony looked horrible. There were fresh scars on his face, one on his temple, one on his forehead, cutting through his eyebrow. A nasty one on his jaw, his nose looked like it had been broken recently. He was clearly favoring his right side and his left hand was trembling uncontrollably. He'd lost weight he really couldn't afford to lose. He seemed to have some trouble breathing and some bruises had yet to fade entirely. Peter didn't even want to know what horrors were hiding underneath his clothes.

"Look at me, Peter," Tony said, voice cracking. "I'm a mess. I'm tired all the time, every movement agitates _something_ , I can barely change my own shirt because I can't move my arms above my head, I can't work because my hand won't stop trembling, I can barely walk without my leg giving out, three of my fingers are numb, my chest aches, I can't breathe and worse than that, I'm alone. I'm depressed. Hell, it'll only be a matter of time before I ultimately kill myself, whether it be intentional or not."

He dropped back onto the couch, the mere act of standing seemingly having tired him out. Peter's eyes were burning and he fought not to let the tears fall.

"Just go, Peter," Tony said tiredly. "I won't hold it against you. I'd leave me." The last part was muttered softly under his breath but Peter's super hearing caught it easily.

"I can't let you kill yourself, Mr. Stark. I _won't_. You need me."

"I don't need anyone," Tony grumbled, though the argument was weak.

"Stay there, Mr. Stark. I'll make you some tea."

"If I could move I would've gotten myself out of this conversation a long time ago."

Peter ignored Tony's annoyed grumble in favor of making the promised tea, asking FRIDAY to show him the things he needed.

"Wait, FRIDAY is on your side now?" Tony squawked indignantly. "Wha- FRIDAY, did you betray me, baby girl? After everything I've done for you?"

"My apologies, Boss," FRIDAY said, not even sounding the least bit apologetic. "But there won't be anyone to stay loyal to if you end up killing yourself."

"We both know that's a lie. You'd just run off with Spider-Baby over there." Tony crossed his arms, not unlike a petulant child. Peter smiled at the bickering between Mr. Stark and his AI, glad to hear the man sounding a little more like himself. It had really scared Peter when he'd heard Mr. Stark talk like he wasn't worth anything, like he'd given up. So while he waited for the water to boil, Peter leaned on the counter, just giving himself some time to breathe. His eyes started burning again when he thought of the hunched figure he'd seen on the couch.

He took the boiling water, put in in one of the many mugs he found and put in a teabag that said it was good to drink before bed because Peter was sure Tony didn't need any caffeine at the moment. He brought it over to where the man was still sitting on the couch, staring at the empty space ahead of him.

"Mr. Stark?" Peter asked when the billionaire didn't seem to notice his presence. Tony blinked, tilting his head to look up at Peter. Now that Peter was closer, he noticed how empty those eyes seemed compared to the expressiveness they'd held when the man had first crashed into his apartment. It scared Peter if he was being honest.

"Here, Mr. Stark. Drink this," Peter said softly, holding out the tea. Tony flinched, looking away.

"Don't like being handed things," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Okay," Peter nodded, not questioning it as he set the mug on the coffee table. He didn't miss Tony's head shooting up to look at him with squinted eyes full of suspicion and shock. "Careful though, it's still hot," Peter warned. Tony nodded mutely, reaching for the tea with shaking hands and pulling it close. Peter took a breath before he decided that screw it, he'd crossed a dozen boundaries already, and flopped down on the couch next to the billionaire superhero.

"FRIDAY? Could you turn on the TV?" He asked the ceiling politely. In response, the TV turned on, showing some detective series. Peter leaned back, purposely relaxing his muscles and turning all his attention to the TV. They sat like that for a few hours, Tony slowly relaxing back into the cushions, quietly sipping his tea. By the time the sun was beginning to set the billionaire had completely relaxed, his eyes closed and head tilted back to rest on the cushions he was slumped into. Peter almost thought he was asleep when he heard the man speak.

"It's getting late."

"Yeah, I- I guess I gotta go home..." Peter said softly, trying not to sound as upset as he felt. Tony cracked open one eye which studied Peter intently for a moment before it closed again.

"I didn't really get to fixing that tear in your suit," he said casually. "Guess you'll have to come back for that later."

"Sure," Peter said in a tone as casual as he could muster (which wasn't very casual), trying to ignore the happiness surging through him.

"Tomorrow, same time. Don't be late, I'm a busy man." Gone was Tony, the man that spoke was Mr. Stark. Peter figured he must feel a little embarrassed about all of it, even though it did clearly do him good.

"Copy that, Mr. Stark," Peter said, saluting awkwardly as the man still had his eyes closed. The same window he'd crawled in through opened up again for him and, with one final look back, Peter jumped out, catching himself on a nearby building and swinging home, a light feeling in his stomach making him feel like he was flying.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: heart attack and medical inaccuracies. Proceed with caution, the inaccuracies are BAD.

Peter came back many times after that. First for the suit, then for any excuse either of them could come up with until it just settled into their schedule like a regular thing. Peter came by every Friday without fail and Tony seemed to look better and better as time passed. He smiled again, although small, and Peter had even managed to make him laugh once. As soon as he knew what he was doing, Tony had stopped, but he'd looked lighter than he had before.

Of course, nothing could ever just go right.

Peter was bouncing up and down in the elevator as it descended, just as happy to spend time with his hero as the first time he'd come. He was happily conversing with FRIDAY, his hands flying about as he talked. The AI chipped in at the appropriate times but otherwise stayed silent. Peter was in the middle of a sentence when the elevator suddenly sped up its descend, causing Peter to almost lose his balance.

"FRIDAY, what's going on?" He asked, anxiously looking at her camera.

"It seems Mr. Stark requires immediate medical assistance," came her response, her voice tight with what could only be described as fear. Peter felt like his stomach was dropping even faster than the elevator. The worst-case scenarios came to mind as the elevator slowed down to a halt outside the workshop. Peter stumbled out, a little disoriented and sick with worry. He pushed open the lab doors just in time to see Tony's eyes roll back into his head and collapse in the middle of his workshop.

"Tony!" Peter screamed in fear, rushing over to the man he now considered a mentor (and so much more), dropping to his knees beside him. He started shaking the man's shoulder, calling out his name while tears rolled over his cheek like waterfalls. Tony's eyes stayed stubbornly closed, completely limp as Peter tried to shake him awake. Peter paled when he realized he wasn't breathing.

He checked for a pulse, the noise of his blood rushing in his ears too loud to make out Tony's heartbeat. His shaking fingers found the man's pulse point, and Peter almost fainted in relief when he felt a weak pulse. Remembering a class he'd had about CPR, he began chest compressions, murmuring under his breath words even he couldn't make out. He was sure he was pleading. 

The seconds seemed to drag on and yet tick by so fast as Tony remained unresponsive. Peter kept up the compressions, trying not to wince as he felt one of Tony's fragile ribs break underneath his hands.

"Come on, Mr. Stark. Come on, please," he cried, his tears wetting Tony's sweat-soaked shirt. "I should've come earlier, I could've seen this coming! I'm so sorry, Mr. Stark. Please, Tony, wake up!"

He was yelling now, just keeping from pounding on Tony's chest with his fists. He distantly felt hands on his shoulders but he shook them off, screaming and yelling for them to go away, he needed to save Mr. Stark, he needed to-

Strong arms pulled him away and Peter didn't have the strength in his shaking limbs to fight back. Through his tear-blurred vision, he saw medics crouching down around his mentor, defibrillators charging up and being placed upon Tony's chest.

First shock. Tony's torso was rocked with the force of the electricity. He didn't breathe.

Second shock. Tony's entire upper body was lifted off the ground with the force of it. He didn't breathe.

Third shock. Again, Tony's back arched off the ground. This time, he breathed.

Peter just managed to see the medics put his mentor on a stretcher before darkness overtook him.

* * *

When Peter opened his eyes again, it was to walls of soft colors, a pleasant smell in the air. He sat up slowly, taking stock of the room he was in. He didn't recognize it. Where was he?

The door opened and a kind looking lady walked in, a gentle and sincere smile on her face.

"Hello, Peter," she greeted him. "I'm Dr. Helen Cho. How are you feeling?"

"I'm- I'm fine," Peter replied, confusion evident in his voice. Why was there a doctor? He felt fine. "Where am I?"

"You're in Avengers Tower- in the medical bay, to be precise."

"Why am I-" He halted mid-sentence as the memories rushed back to him. The elevator speeding up. Mr. Stark collapsing. Not breathing. Slow pulse. Wouldn't wake up. Was he- "Where's Mr. Stark? Where is he? Is he okay? I need to-" Peter stumbled over his words, his legs tangling up in the blankets as he tried to get out of bed.

"Calm down, Peter. Mr. Stark is very much alive. He is in the next room over. Would you like me to take you to him?" Dr. Cho asked calmly. _Would he like that? Did she_ seriously _just ask that question?_

 _"Yes!"_ Peter almost screamed, untangling his legs from the bed and pushing past her to where she pointed down the hall. He sped over to the room, throwing open the door-

And there he was. Mr. Stark was sitting up in bed, his back supported by a pillow. There were tubes in his arms and an oxygen cannula on his face. His eyes were half-lidded and a little glazed over as they slowly traveled towards Peter. Recognition filled the brown orbs and one corner of his mouth tilted upwards.

"Hi," he croaked out softly. Peter's legs suddenly felt weak and he leaned heavily against the doorpost. "Come in, Pete," Tony said tiredly, though not unkindly. Peter dragged himself towards the bed, dropping into the chair beside it, shaking with relief.

"I- I thought you were dead..." Peter whispered, eyes burning.

"Look at me, kid," Tony whispered back. Peter looked up slowly, almost afraid to meet his mentor's eyes. But those eyes were soft, kind. Tired, yes, but alert. Aware of Peter's presence. "I'm gonna be okay, I swear. I've had worse than this."

"I'm afraid he is quite right about that." They both looked up to see a middle-aged man with grey hair smiling at them sadly. "He is quite the handful, I'm afraid. He'll bounce back from this, I'm sure." Tony gave Peter his best 'told you so' look to which Peter just rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach at the thought. "I'm afraid there was too much stress on his heart which caused this... malfunction. If he takes care of himself and takes his medication, this shouldn't repeat itself. Now, I suggest you rest up, Mr. Stark. You'll need your strength." The doctor said. Tony nodded, which seemed to surprise the doctor slightly. He nodded back and left the room. Peter turned back to his mentor.

"I think you should go home, kid," Tony said softly. "It's getting late and you don't want to worry your aunt."

"But what about you?" Peter asked, eyes wide.

"Don't worry about me," Tony said, closing his eyes as he laid back. "They won't let me leave this bed anytime soon. It's a good thing I had them scrap the white walls and sterile smell- I'll survive. We're still good for next week, right?"

"Mr. Stark," Peter said, trying to push down the sudden anger in his stomach. "I just saw you collapse in your lab. You weren't _breathing,_ Mr. Stark. And you expect me to just go home and not think about it again?"

"Peter, please," Tony sighed, but it sounded more like the pleading of an exhausted man who'd just been on the brink of death. Peter slumped in his seat, guilt replacing the anger churning in his gut. "Peter, look at me." Peter did. "I'm sorry you had to see that. But I'm okay. They'll probably have me on medication and I'll be back on my feet in no time. I'll keep you posted, alright? Let you know I'm doing fine."

Peter nodded, wiping at his damp eyes. He met Tony's once more and the man smiled softly, pushing his arm gently.

"Go home, Pete."

"Get better soon, Mr. Stark," Peter whispered before walking out the door. That night he cried himself to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a big-ass performance this Thursday and it's my first time performing in front of such an audience and I'm scared :) anyone have tips on how to deal with severe anxiety for a performance? I'd love to hear it


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad news...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: panic attacks and manful tears :'(

Tony hadn't just been playing tough, it seemed, as the man waited for him by the door the next week. Peter almost tripped over his own feet as he raced towards him, stopping himself just in time before he would've crushed the man in a hug. He knew Tony didn't do hugs. The billionaire was dressed in his simple lab attire, the only difference being the shades perched on his nose. He smiled, spreading his arms.

"See? I'm fine."

Peter eyed him skeptically, eyeing his movements to see if he really wasn't hiding any pain. Tony groaned dramatically.

"Geez, kid. Lighten up. Doctors cleared me several days ago, they allowed me to work in my lab so long as I 'take it easy'." The man mocked in an annoying tone with air quotes to boot. 

"Then why are you wearing your sunglasses?" Peter asked suspiciously.

"Well, I just thought I'd save my eyes from the torment of-"

"It's cloudy, Mr. Stark."

"... Alright, fine," Tony groaned, running a hand through his hair. "I've been a little sensitive to light these past few days. Probably due for a migraine sometime soon. But that's it, I swear."

Later Peter would realize it was really quite funny to have Tony Stark himself look like a careless child under the gaze of a helicopter parent, but Peter thought it was only fair. Most of the time it was Tony playing helicopter parent, bugging him about eating, doing his homework, getting enough sleep, all that jazz. Peter didn't have the courage to point it out because as annoying as it could be at times, it did warm his heart to know that Mr. Stark truly cared about him and he didn't want it to stop.

"Okay," Peter said after a while. "But you're taking it easy today, right? No blowing things up?"

"No blowing things up," Tony agreed, crossing a finger over his heart. "Besides, Pepper's been bugging me about some paperwork that needs to be finished anyway. Might as well get to that now."

They fell into step beside each other as they made their way to the workshop. Peter kept one eye on his mentor at all times, though the man really did only work on his papers. He helped Peter with his suit a couple of times but otherwise took it easy. When Peter went back home, he felt reassured in his mentor's health.

* * *

The next time he came, Tony didn't look as good.

"Mr. Stark! Are you okay?" Peter asked, rushing out of the car. Tony was waiting for him at his usual spot, but he looked horrible. He was wearing his shades again, but they did little to hide the bags under his eyes, dark as bruises, and the fatigue on his face and in his entire posture.

"Yeah, kid. I'm good," Tony said, smiling. But it looked tired, _exhausted_ even, and Peter didn't need to see his eyes to know the smile didn't reach them. "How about we sit down for this, alright?"

They walked inside, entering the elevator and going up, instead of down. Peter tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut as he thought of the worst-case scenarios, ranging from 'no more lab days' to 'holy shit Tony's dying'. By the time they reached the 74th floor, Peter was sweating, his legs feeling weak. Tony didn't look at him as he went to sit on one of the couches, dropping his head in his hands. Peter sat down beside him, careful not to crowd him too much.

"Mr. Stark? What's going on?" He asked once it was evident Tony wasn't going to speak up first. Tony drew in a sharp breath, holding it maybe a little too long before releasing it softly.

"I-" he started, struggling to find the right words. Peter's heart was beating loudly in his ears. Tony _always_ knew what to say. "I don't really know how to say this, kid. I honestly can barely believe it myself." He laughed, but it was without humor. His ever-trembling left hand was shaking to an extend Peter had never seen before. He felt the blood drain from his face when he realized Tony was scared.

"Peter, the rogues are coming back."

Peter didn't respond. He didn't move. He didn't even know if he was breathing or not. He felt anger. It was coursing through his veins, white-hot anger.

"Why?" He sneered. Tony shook his head from where it was still being gripped in his shaking hands. "Why would they even be allowed back? And I assume they're coming to live here, right? Why? Just- _why?!_ "

"The world needs them, Peter," Tony said hoarsely. "I can't do it all on my own."

"But sir!" Peter almost yelled, feeling frantic and lightheaded with the amount of anger he felt. "You gave them everything they needed and more, and look at how they treated you for it! You can't let them do that to you again, you can't!" 

"It isn't my decision to make, Peter!" Tony yelled back, his brown eyes boring into Peter's as he took off his shades. Peter opened his mouth to say something but stopped when he looked at his mentor. He looked small. It wasn't a word anyone would ever use when describing Tony Stark because, regardless of his height, he always looked larger than life. No matter how much taller you were than him, you'd always be looking up. Now, it seemed like the world was swallowing him whole. "The world needs heroes, Peter. I'm sorry, I don't want them back any more than you do, but I can't put myself above the fate of the world, I can't."

Peter understood, of course, he did. The rational part of him did, anyway. But the rest of him was too emotional to think straight. They'd hurt his mentor, almost made him simply give up. People had been leaving him his entire life, how could the Avengers, of all people, do that to him?!

"Mr. Stark, I understand the world will need them. But why should they live in _your_ house? Why not give them another place to stay, away from you?"

"Because they need supervision," Tony sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. Or at least, that's what the UN told me. Maybe they think _I_ need supervision. They never trusted me, anyway."

Peter kept his mouth shut at that, knowing whatever he was gonna come out when he opened it wouldn't be too helpful in this situation. He studied his mentor, looking at his tired but tense posture. He was slightly hunched in on himself.

"There's more to this, isn't there?" He asked softly. Tony looked up at him for a moment before averting his gaze. He didn't answer. "Mr. Stark, you know you can tell me anything, right? I won't judge." _Not like them_ , was left unsaid, though Peter was sure Tony heard it anyway. A long silence followed in which Peter feared Tony wouldn't answer. But then the man took a deep, shuddering breath, his face hidden in his hands.

"I'm scared, Peter," he whispered softly. Peter paled at the softly spoken confession. "I don't know what I'm going to do when they get back. I don't know what _they'll_ do. They always loved blaming me for anything that went wrong. I'm scared I'll feel unsafe even in my own house. I'm scared I won't have anywhere to go. I'm scared of what I'll do to me if they can't forgive me..."

Peter felt sick. He was sure he was going to throw up.

"What happened, Mr. Stark?" He asked sharply. He'd been curious for a long time (those scars didn't come from the airport fight), but he'd refrained from asking in fear of overstepping boundaries. Now, he needed to know. "What did they do to you?"

"Barnes killed my parents."

Whatever Peter had expected to hear, it wasn't that. He physically reeled back in shock.

"No- that's wrong. The Winter Soldier killed my parents, Barnes had nothing to do with it," Tony corrected himself. It sounded like something he'd been telling himself a long time now. Like if he repeated it, he'd believe it. It would lessen the pain. "I- I don't blame him, I think," he continued unsurely. "It's just- Rogers _knew_ , you know? He'd known for years and he didn't tell me. And that in and of itself isn't something I can't forgive and forget with time, but a few years ago, he had the audacity to tell _me_ I shouldn't keep secrets. And the bastard _knew_ and he didn't tell me. He didn't- I had to find out on my own, I had to _watch them die_ while the killer was standing next to me. And he, what, expected me to be cool about it? That son of a bitch didn't even care enough to tell me his best friend bashed my father's head in and choked the life out of my mother, but spent my money, my time, and my resources on finding him?"

By this time, Tony had stood up from the couch, pacing back and forth almost frantically.

"And I helped him, too. I spent countless sleepless nights trying to find anything I could on the Winter Soldier. And yet he _knew_. All this time, I blamed Howard for killing my mom. All this time, I cursed his name, ignored his grave, and yes, he was a horrible father. A horrible person. But he didn't deserve that- to be blamed for something he didn't do. And Rogers- he _knew_..."

He stumbled back, suddenly out of breath. Peter sat frozen in shock, still trying to process the new information but his brain was malfunctioning. How could Rogers do that? Keep something like that from his teammate, from his _friend_?! He finally looked up when Tony made a choked noise, sliding onto the floor with his back against the sofa. He was gripping his chest, his eyes wide and unseeing as he frantically gasped for breath. 

"Mr. Stark!" Peter rushed over to him, kneeling at his side, his hands hovering over his mentor unsurely. "What's going on? Can I help? What should I do?"

"I can't breathe..." Tony choked out, both hands scratching at his chest. 

"Just- just do what I do, sir. Just breathe. Easy. Just... deep breaths." Peter hesitantly took one of Tony's hands away from his chest, guiding it over to rest over his own heart. "Just copy me."

They sat like that for a little while, Peter whispering what he was hoping sounded like encouragements. Tony had his eyes squeezed shut, desperately trying to copy Peter's breathing. 

"That's it, Mr. Stark. You're doing great," Peter praised softly, trying to keep calm.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Tony murmured, one hand wrapped around his midriff in pain.

"Do you need a bucket? I can get a bucket-" Peter rambled, already moving to stand up. Tony's hand on his arm stopped him.

"No, just- stay for a second, okay?"

"Okay, Mr. Stark," Peter agreed easily, sitting beside his mentor, just close enough to be a grounding presence but far enough away as not to crowd him. After a while of taking deep breaths, Tony seemed to have calmed down. "Wanna tell me what that was?" Peter asked. A voice in the back of his mind helpfully pointed out that he sounded like an overconcerned parent, which he chose to ignore. Tony deserved a parent for once.

"It was nothing-"

"Mr. Stark," Peter warned. Tony glanced at him through his long lashes before sighing.

"Panic attack," he murmured. "Thinking about your parents' death and almost dying right afterward isn't exactly a calming thought."

" _Dying_?" Peter screeched. Tony startled, looking at him indignantly. "I'm sorry. But you neglected to mention you almost _died!_ "

"Oh, well. That." Tony shrugged. Peter gave him his most unimpressed look and Tony caved. "Well, I guess it was my fault, really. After watching my parents die and finding out Rogers _knew_ , that son of a bitch, I kind of lashed out. So I ended up fighting two murderous super soldiers and they left me behind after disabling my suit in freezing Siberia. Guess I deserved that."

Peter laughed a little manically, feeling lightheaded.

"You _deserved_ that? Mr. Stark, with all due respect, that's really dumb." Peter ignored Tony's offended _'excuse me?'_ and continued. "As you said before, you watched your parents be murdered by a man who was standing right next to you and then also found out one of your best friends knew about it and didn't tell you. They were supposed to restrain you, talk to you until you calmed down. You were grieving, Mr. Stark. The last thing they were supposed to do was _fight you,_ of all things. And to leave you behind... That's cruel, Mr. Stark. No one deserves that."

"Right," Tony said softly, not at all sounding as if he believed it. "You're a good kid, Peter," he said, voice low. "May must be proud of you."

"I hope so..." Peter said, confused at the change of topic. "It's all I want to do- make her proud."

"I used to do that," Tony whispered, eyes distant. "I have an aunt too, you know. I mean, she isn't legally my aunt, but I've always called her Aunt Peggy. She was always proud of me, even when Howard wasn't. Or maybe especially when Howard wasn't. You know what- Howard was never proud, forget I said anything. Anyway," he took a deep breath, moving his eyes to gaze out the window. "She's kind. She has the most beautiful smile. When I was a kid, she would sometimes tell me stories of bad guys she caught." He smiled softly. "She made me want to make her proud."

"She sounds like a lovely person," Peter said softly, feeling like the peaceful air around them would shatter if he spoke too loud.

"Yeah," Tony agreed softly. "She got old, though. Whenever I visited she would- she would think I was Howard. She'd send me out whenever I told her I was his son. She thought I was still just a little kid. I- I stopped coming. I shouldn't have done that."

"Can't you visit her again?"

"She died a few months ago," Tony said, his voice breaking. "I didn't know- I missed the funeral trying to fix the accords. I- I never said goodbye..." A single tear rolled down his cheek when he closed his eyes. Peter's heart clenched at the sight of the strongest man he'd ever known finally cracking underneath the weight of the world.

"I'm gonna hug you now, okay?" He said, not waiting for an answer as he wrapped his arms around his mentor, breathing in his soothing scent and swallowing past the sudden lump in his throat.

"God, I'm so weak," Tony murmured self-depreciatingly.

"Crying isn't weak, Mr. Stark," Peter said hoarsely. "I think it's incredibly strong. You're the strongest person I've ever met. And I met Captain America too, you know." Tony huffed out what sounded vaguely like a laugh, finally embracing the hug as his strong arms wrapped around his kid.

Peter woke up in that same position, Tony's arms now lax around him. He figured they must have fallen asleep, all the emotional talk having drained them both. He allowed himself a moment of selfishness as he burrowed into his mentor's warmth. He felt safe, comfortable even though it really shouldn't be, sitting on the floor like they were. He vaguely recalled his father holding him when he was little. He felt now as he did back then- warm, safe. 

He finally moved to get up, careful not to wake his mentor. He looked so tired, yet for the first time since Peter had known him, he looked peaceful. Peter debated moving him to the couch before deciding against it. It would probably embarrass the man so much, especially after opening up like that, he would probably push Peter away entirely. Peter wasn't willing to risk that.

So, to make sure Tony wouldn't run away as soon as he woke up, he made coffee. Just when it finished, he heard a sound from the couch. He quickly poured the coffee into a mug, smiling when it reminded him of the first time he'd come here.

"Goodnight, Mr. Stark," he greeted cheerfully. Tony had successfully heaved himself onto the couch, where he was slumped in the cushions, eyes closed.

"How can you possibly be so cheery before coffee," he groaned. Peter shrugged.

"May asks me that all the time." He handed the man his coffee (Tony had allowed Peter to hand him things a little while ago) which he gulped down immediately. Peter winced. The coffee had been way too hot. Tony didn't pay any attention to the scalding heat, instead, he held out the mug towards Peter with puppy eyes that really shouldn't be that effective on an adult. Peter rolled his eyes in faux disapproval as he took the mug back to the kitchen to refill it. This time, Tony sipped it more slowly, closing his eyes at the bitter taste. Peter sat down beside him with some apple juice he'd found, silently wondering why Tony even had apple juice in the first place and gave Tony some time to regain his bearings.

"Sorry about last night, by the way," the man said after a while, trying to be subtle when he rubbed his eyes tiredly. He was avoiding Peter's gaze, looking down at his once again empty coffee mug.

"Don't apologize, Mr. Stark," Peter replied immediately. "I'm glad I know now."

"Yeah? Why," Tony asked, something dangerous in his voice.

"'cause it allows me to help you," Peter said matter-of-factly. Tony cast him a confused glance before looking away again.

"It's late," he pointed out, stifling a yawn. The sky outside was dark, the moon casting pale shadows into the room. 

"Shit, Aunt May!" Peter exclaimed suddenly, jumping up from the couch in panic. "Oh, no. She's probably so worried! She's gonna kill me..."

"I have contacted May Parker, she is aware of your saying here for the night," FRIDAY spoke up. Peter slumped in relief, breathing out loudly as he flopped back onto the couch. Tony was smiling, his eyes suspiciously half-mast.

"Good job, baby girl," he said softly. The lights in the room dimmed and lit up again in response.

"Your AI is possibly the coolest thing I've ever seen. Or, heard?" Peter complimented. Tony hummed.

"Yeah, she's quite something, isn't she," Tony said with a soft smile. He broke the peaceful silence with a clap of his hands, stifling another yawn in his sleeve. "Well," he said, "I'm off."

"To bed, right?" Peter said, taking the empty coffee mug and taking it to the kitchen.

"Sure. To bed."

"FRIDAY?" Peter asked. The doors clicked shut audibly. Tony came into the kitchen looking entirely unimpressed.

"Seriously?"

"You're going to bed, Mr. Stark. It's, like, midnight."

"I just had a powernap, that's all I need for at least two days!" Tony protested.

"That's... so concerning."

"Whatever. I'm behind on work, anyway, we wasted hours just napping. I don't think I have the emotional capacity to deal with Pepper's disappointment right now."

"FRIDAY, would you please let Ms. Potts know Mr. Stark is taking a sick day?" Peter asked the AI innocently.

"Of course, Mr. Parker," the soft voice responded sweetly. Peter looked back at his mentor.

"Now, hey, don't give me that look," Tony said quickly, holding up his hand defensively. "I'm still going to work. I can't afford to fall behind on this."

"Yes, you can. Your health matters too, you know."

"No, it doesn't!" Tony yelled almost desperately, his tired eyes wide and desperate. Peter stepped back in shock at his outburst. Tony ran a hand down his face tiredly. "Look, Peter," he pleaded desperately. "I need to work. I- I _have_ to work. I don't- I can't-"

"Mr. Stark, you can work in the morning. You need a night's rest, that's no crime!"

Tony huffed in frustration, sinking down in a chair by the bar, slumping over the countertop.

"I have to work," he protested again, though it was weak.

"Not all the time, Mr. Stark. Why don't you believe me?"

"I have to make gear for the Avengers. I haven't made them any upgrades since they left. Nat needs new Widow Bites, Cap will need his shield back but it still has my blood on it- can it." He held up a hand to stop Peter's indignant squawk that threatened to come out. "Wilson's wings are probably ruined, Barnes needs a new arm, Barton needs new arrows-"

"Mr. Stark, please stop talking," Peter stopped him, putting a gentle hand on his mentor's arm. "You're going to bed, you're gonna sleep for eight hours-"

_"Eight hours?!"_

"-and when you wake up in the morning, you can start working on those things. After breakfast, of course," he added as an afterthought, completely ignoring Tony's outburst.

"Come on, Peter-" Tony started but Peter held up a hand.

"I don't wanna hear it. FRIDAY, please get us to Mr. Stark's floor."

"Of course, Mr. Parker," FRIDAY said, a hint of a smile in her all too realistic voice. Tony didn't even protest anymore, just muttered something under his breath and let Peter drag him towards the elevator where he leaned heavily against the wall. Peter didn't know what to say so he kept quiet, the only sound being their collective breathing and the soft whirring of the elevator. The doors opened soundlessly on Tony's floor. Tony seemed to act on autopilot as he wandered out of the elevator and into his room where he promptly collapsed on his bed. Peter hovered awkwardly in the doorway.

"So, where should I sleep?" He asked after a while, fearing Tony had already fallen asleep. But the man groaned and rolled dramatically onto his back, blinking hard at the ceiling.

"There's a spare bedroom to your left."

"O-okay," Peter waved awkwardly though the billionaire had already closed his eyes again. "Goodnight, Mr. Stark."

"Hmm," Tony hummed softly. "Night."

When Peter curled up underneath the sheets, he focused his hearing on the sound of Tony's heartbeat in the other room. It was soft, sleep-slowed, and steady. Peter let his eyes slip closed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your response on the last chapter and your kind tips! My performance (in music, it's a band, I didn't specify that sorry) is tomorrow and Friday and I'm no less nervous, but your kind comments really helped, so thank you all for that <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Rogues return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is really just me projecting my feelings through the story. I really love Marvel, the movies made me a fan, but the more I watch it and think about it, the more pissed off I get. I guess Endgame was the last straw for me. There are a million and one things that I do not like at all about the movie and what Marvel did to its characters (Howard wasn't that nice, Marvel. He wasn't) and I decided to write this to just vent for a little bit. Something I want off my chest:
> 
> I never liked Steve Rogers all that much, I could never really connect with him. At first, I couldn't figure out why, but now I realize it's because the only time Steve Rogers is, in fact, Steve Rogers, is in the First Avenger. After that, his character becomes selfish, chasing after his own ideals and unable to look past his own ego of 'hey I'm Captain America, I can't do anything wrong'. The only reason I'm not too hard on him is because of the fact that I ship him with Tony, and Tony will forever be my favorite. But as a character, I don't like him at all. That will definitely come forward in this chapter.
> 
> I love Nat, I really do. But that report she wrote on Tony has my blood boil. That was just really unfair and wholly unjustified. Also, I'm unfortunate enough to never have read any comics because they're not so easy to find here, but I've heard comics Hawkeye is really cool and the MCU one just... sucks. Also, Wanda is a bitch. I don't care that she's the most powerful Avenger and all that shit, what she did was unjustified. She and T'Challa both went after the supposed 'killer' of their parents (even though Tony had nothing to do with it) and they weren't even frowned upon. Tony sees his parents get killed and he gets beat up for being angry, my ass. 
> 
> Anyway, that was my little rant, enjoy the detailed one :)

Peter wrung his hands together nervously, his hair whipping across his face with the strong wind. They were on top of Stark Tower, watching the small dot that was the Avenger's jet grow slowly. Tony was standing next to him, neatly dressed in a suit, his hands clasped behind his back. His eyes were hidden behind dark shades. Even over the howling wind, Peter could hear the man's elevated heartbeat. When the jet finally touched down, he heard his mentor take a deep breath, but make no move to greet his former teammates.

The jet doors opened and Captain America himself stepped out, his chest puffed, chin raised, radiating authority. Peter snarled from underneath his mask. In his opinion, that man had no right to walk over here like he owned the place. He never had in the first place, it was another thing Tony had generously given to them without getting any thanks in return.

"Stark," Rogers addressed billionaire. Once again, Peter felt his mentor's heart rate spike.

"Rogers," he said back in a clipped voice. He nodded at the rest of the team behind the Captain. "Rogues. Ms. Potts will lead you to your rooms. There are floors that are entirely off-limits to you, you'd do well to respect that, or there will be consequences. Your stay here depends entirely on how you behave. I have granted you rooms here, but at the first sign of disobedience, I will not hesitate to throw you out into the streets to take care of yourselves. The world may need the Avengers but that does not dismiss the fact that you went against the law. You will have to gain the trust of the world again. And mine, for that matter. Ms. Potts, they're all yours."

Without giving any of the ex-Avengers a chance to speak up, Tony turned around to leave.

"Stark! Where the hell do you think you're going!" Rogers' voice shouted after them, sounding furious. Tony halted promptly in his tracks, his heartbeat erratic. "You have no authority over us, Stark. We demand our own floors back."

"I most certainly have authority over you, _Rogers_ ," Tony spat. "This is my house, you own nothing here. You have no right to demand anything. 'Your' floors have been renovated and mostly used for the new internship program SI has launched. You're lucky you even have rooms, to begin with. I could have just as easily made you bunk in together. You had your chance, Rogers, all of you, and you decided to stab me in the back. Be happy with what you've got."

Tony made a move to leave again, Peter loyally by his side but, of course, Rogers would have none of it.

"Listen up here, Stark," he growled, moving towards the retreating billionaire. Pepper tried to step in front of him, but he pushed her aside, stalking over towards the genius. "You can't deny us what is rightfully ours. Those floors were our home, and you have no right to take that away." He put his hand on the billionaire's shoulder, making the shorter man freeze up. "It is not our fault some people tried to take our freedom away and you _agreed_ to it. You've always been too much of a coward to fight for others."

"Others?" Tony spat, turning around and shoving the captain's hand off his shoulder. "Others, like Bucky? Your BFF? It wasn't _some people_ , Rogers. It was _117_ countries that were dissatisfied with the way we operated. Innocent people have been _murdered_ because of us, because of the way we operated. We're not a team, Rogers. We never were. We were a bunch of people thrown together to just figure it out. And you, Captain Righteous, were willing to ignore the will of _117_ countries to run after your highly unstable best friend, dragging the Earth's defenders with you."

"It's Bucky, Tony! Wouldn't you have done the same for Rhodes?"

"I would've wanted to, as bad as you did! But I wouldn't have condemned the world for it, because I would've known that's not what Rodey would've wanted. And I'm sure Barnes didn't, either. But you wouldn't've known that, now, would you? Because you didn't let him talk. He didn't have a say. Did you even tell him about the accords, about the damage we've caused as a so-called 'team'? You should consider yourself lucky I'm even giving you a chance at all, after what you did."

Tony turned to leave again, this time planning on walking out entirely and ignoring anything Rogers might shout after him. Unfortunately, the captain seemed to have anticipated that as he moved to grab the billionaire roughly by the shoulder. Tony flinched, hard.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to step back," Peter growled, stepping closer to his mentor protectively.

"You're the kid from Queens," Rogers noticed. "The one Stark dragged into a dangerous fight. You should go home, son. This is an adult matter."

"Don't you dare call me son," Peter growled, surprising himself with the amount of venom in his voice. But he could see the sweat on Tony's brow and the way the man seemed to shake. The man's erratic heartbeat was loud in his ears. "Now, let him go."

"Kid, you should really step back. This is none of your concern," Rogers sighed, speaking as if Peter was a particularly annoying child.

"None of my concern?" Peter laughed humorlessly. "This is as much my concern as it is yours, _Captain_. This is something that concerns the _world_. You see, you think this is all about you. But the world needs protectors. The world needs the Avengers, much to my dismay. This is bigger than you, sir, although I wouldn't expect you to see that past your own ego. What's more, Mr. Stark is my mentor. He's been sick, hurt, afraid because of what _you_ did to him."

"Oh, come on. Stark can handle having a whole tower to himself while he lazes around," Clint sneered. "We, on the other hand, were forced to hide out on the other side of the world, living like wanted criminals."

"Oh, can it, will you?" Peter snapped. He almost didn't recognize himself with the way he spoke- cold, yet burning furiously. "I know Wakanda is the most advanced place in the world- Mr. Stark showed me. And yes, he knew exactly where you were this whole time. Now, as for Mr. Stark's 'lazing around'; he spent weeks, no, _months_ recovering from what your dear ol' Captain did to him. Physically, he healed for the most part. Mentally, however, he's still suffering. Other than that, yeah, it's been nice. Working his ass off to make the accords something you'll agree to, to get you pardoned, neglecting his own health to make you new gear before you came back, that sort of lazy stuff. I bet you had it much harder living in a castle."

"Peter," Tony's soft and slightly hoarse voice sounded next to him. "That's enough. Let's go."

"No," Peter yelled. "No, this is not enough! Mr. Stark, they betrayed you! They left you for _dead_! Even before that, they didn't listen to you, they didn't thank you for what you gave them. They took it all for granted! They took _you_ for granted! I'm not going to stand for that any longer, sir."

"Wait, hold on. What do you mean, 'left for dead'?" Natasha's voice cut in, her eyes sharp. "He was fine after the airport battle."

"Fine," Peter scoffed. "I'm pretty sure he wasn't _fine_. His best friend was _paralyzed_. But sure, call it fine. After the battle, however, he wanted to help out Rogers and his BFF. Where they beat him up because he wasn't allowed to lash out after seeing his parents get murdered by the man standing next to him. Did you know, Rogers, that Mr. Stark has forgiven your friend? That he is sensible enough to realize it wasn't Mr. Barnes' fault? It's _you_ he has trouble forgiving because you _knew_ and you didn't tell him."

"Steve?" Natasha asked, her eyes wide in a rare display of emotion. The whole team was looking at their captain. Clearly, this information had been withheld from them. "Steve, you promised me you would tell him. You said he understood. Did you _lie_ to me? To us?"

"You said he walked out fine!" Sam cut in. "You said he didn't want to listen, that _he_ was the one who betrayed _you_. How could you lie to us like that, man?"

Steve looked unsure now, looking at his team wildly.

"He was going to hurt Bucky-"

"Because he saw him kill his parents!" Sam yelled, throwing his hands up in despair. "What did you expect, he would just sit down and let you explain it to him? That he'd be totally cool about it when not only the killer was right there, but also one of his best friends neglected to inform him of it? They were his _parents_ , Steve! He was shown how they were _murdered_."

"Oh, come on!" Steve yelled out. "It was ages ago, he should've been over it by now."

The entire roof lapsed into a shocked silence at that. Everyone seemed to be looking at Steve, except for Tony, who was trying to control his breathing.

"Steve, you can't actually mean that, man," Sam said softly.

"He saw his parents get murdered," Wanda whispered, her eyes wide and teary. "Steve, you know what that did to me. Yet you forgave me. Why did you leave him to die?"

"You're supposed to hold him back, talk to him. Not fight him and leave him behind! What the hell were you thinking?!" Sam was yelling at this point. "The least you could've done was come clean to us, man. I trusted you." He scoffed. "I guess I chose the wrong side."

With that, he walked away from his former captain, walking over to Tony to put a hand on his shoulder. Tony gave him a grateful look, not trusting his own voice at that moment.

"You lied to me, Steve," Nat said, putting a hand on his arm and smiling at him wistfully. "I might have forgiven you if you'd been honest from the start. You had so many opportunities to tell us, and you didn't. I'm not sure who you are anymore." She walked past him, smiling regrettably at Pepper as she walked past, trying to let her know she was sorry. Pepper gave her a hard stare but nodded ever so slightly.

"What you did wasn't cool, man," Clint whispered, walking away from Steve. Wanda trailed after him.

"Wanda, come on," Steve begged.

"I do not agree with Stark," she said. "But I agree with you even less."

"I don't even have anything to say, dude," Lang said, grimacing at the captain. "You were my idol. Guess I had it wrong."

That just left Bucky, who hadn't spoken during the whole ordeal.

"Buck-" Steve tried, but Bucky ignored him, walking over towards Stark.

"I know what I did is unforgivable," he started out, chewing at his lower lip, "but I'd like to make it up to you. Or just stay out of your way, if that's what you prefer. I'm just- I'm so sorry for fighting you in Germany and in Siberia. I don't know what I was thinking. I don't deserve forgiveness, but I'd like to try to earn it. I'll do anything."

"Let me just stop you there," Tony said, his voice suspiciously hoarse. "I have no idea what's going on right now, but you don't have to earn anything. Well, okay, maybe my trust, but we'll get there. Now, Steve," he turned towards the now lonely Captain. "This is your last chance. Behave and get a place here, or don't and make it on your own. Your choice."

Steve was fuming. His whole team had left him for... _Stark_.

"How could you choose this man!" He roared. "How could you choose him after what he did to us?! Wanda, he killed your parents!"

"And Bucky killed his!" Wanda shouted back. "And look what he's doing for him!"

"Mr. Stark also didn't kill your parents," Peter murmured, but Wanda heard him.

"What do you mean?" She questioned.

"I mean, Obediah Stane was the one dealing weapons under the table. Mr. Stark had nothing to do with that."

Wanda turned pale, but Peter paid her no further mind as he felt his Spidey-Senses tingle. Too late he realized the captain was charging for Tony.

"You're a coward, Stark. Just a selfish, weak, _coward!_ "

Tony stumbled back in fear, his eyes wide and body trembling. But Natasha stepped in front of him, effectively blocking Steve's path.

"We all did him wrong, Steve," she said, her voice low and cold. "I wronged him in the beginning, writing that report about him. I misjudged him. We all made mistakes, we all used what he gave us and didn't even bother to say thank you. But you crossed a line here. If you're unwilling to take what he's giving you, then maybe you don't deserve it."

"Nat-"

"Goodbye, Steve."

She made eye contact with Peter, who was at his mentor's side as if asking for permission. Peter nodded, and they both supported Tony as his legs failed to hold him.

"You need to get his heart rate down," Sam said. "I think he's going into shock."

The team made their way off the roof, leaving Steve to watch them go. The door slammed shut behind them, and Pepper stepped in front of the Captain.

"So, Captain America," she said, looking at him as if he were just another annoying businessman she dealt with daily. "I'll tell Shield you're not welcome here. They might have a little room for you somewhere. I look forward to never seeing you again." She smiled, turned on her heel, and walked away.

* * *

It was hard, the following months. No one knew exactly how to behave, what they could and couldn't do, and they were mostly days spent in silence. But it gave the former Avengers a chance to think about what they'd done, about the mistakes they'd made. They all apologized, unprompted and genuine. 

After that, things slowly got better. They made sure not to make the same mistakes they had in the beginning and learned to appreciate all that Tony Stark was. Bucky did end up earning Tony's trust, and the two bonded over cars and, surprisingly, nightmares. The two would often be found together on the couch, coffee or hot chocolate in their hands as they talked or just enjoyed each other's presence in silence. Of course, Peter was always there to watch out for his mentor, but he was happy to see that the superhero wasn't alone anymore.

Perhaps the world needed the Avengers, but Tony just needed his friends, his family. It was a tough road, but he got there in the end. That was all he could've asked for- just someone in his corner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know about that ending, but I'm really glad this is wrapped up. It took me way too long (this entire story is 30 Word pages and exactly 13524 words) but I'm kind of satisfied with it?
> 
> Let me know what you thought because I am seriously salty.
> 
> (Also my band performance is today, thank you all so much for your support, you have no idea what that means to me ♥️) (edit: it got canceled at the last second due to corona. Thank you all the same ♥️)


	7. Bonus chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not dead I swear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus chapter because like 3 people asked for it. I'm ashamed at how long this took. I had to work from home for a few months and my teachers were kicking my ass every day, my mental health has been steadily declining and writer's block hit me like a building :( I hope you'll enjoy this final chapter and it's up to satisfaction!

Peter stuck like glue to his mentor's side. He came by the tower up to three times a week. Tony didn't seem to notice the boy's protectiveness but the newly reinstated Avengers certainly did. They said nothing about it, of course. As a matter of fact, they barely said anything to Tony at all. Since coming back to the compound, the Rogues were walking on eggshells. They were well aware of the fact that they'd been given a second chance they didn't deserve and they knew what would happen to them if they crossed the line. They'd all seen how Steve had been treated.

They mostly steered clear of their resident genius to stay out of trouble, but they could still be found on the communal level to let their landlord know they were there and not actively avoiding him. Peter shot them glares any time he saw them, but the Rogues figured it's the least they deserved. Tony wasn't seen very often, being mostly held up in his lab or wherever else he went in his free time.

On the rare occasion that Tony bumped into his old team, it was evident he didn't quite know how to behave around them. He was tense, though he tried not to show. It was hard to get him into an easy conversation and he never stuck around long enough for the talking to get personal. The ex-Avengers all apologized at some point, but things were still incredibly tense. The team only saw a glimpse of the old Tony when the kid came around. He'd listen to the kid's ramblings and joke around with him. But they only ever came up for food, and the ex-Avengers weren't allowed in the lab. Never had been, actually.

"... And I was thinking, maybe we could-" Peter cut himself off as he and Tony entered the living space currently occupied by the rogues. The boy had noticed Tony's hesitance around them and he was still pretty pissed himself. His doe eyes hardened as he looked at them, almost daring them to try anything. Tony sighed, putting a hand on Peter's shoulder.

"C'mon, kid," he said softly, tiredly, before steering his mentee into the kitchen. Peter allowed himself to be led out of the room, sending one last glare over his shoulder. Natasha sighed.

"This can't go on like this," she said, turning to her team. "None of us are comfortable here. Tony doesn't trust us, and I don't blame him. But this is his house. He shouldn't feel unsafe here."

"Nat's right," Clint agreed. "I understand things can't go back to the way they were, but this is insane. He's barely said a word to us since we came here. And that kid gets on my nerves." He shuddered. Sam hummed affirmatively.

"That doe-eyed kid has no business being that intimidating," he said.

"Well, he does spend a lot of time with Tony," Nat said, her lips curving into what could almost be called a fond smile. She remembered seeing the man for the first time. He hadn't looked intimidating in the slightest. But he had the ability to make any lesser man run for the hills. She'd been quite impressed but hadn't looked into it much. Her smile dropped as she recalled the report he'd written about him. It weighed heavily in her stomach, especially after having known him for so long now. She'd been wrong. More than wrong, she'd been ignorant. She'd believed the judgment others had of him, which caused her to overlook the signs proving her wrong. Later, when she'd tried to talk to him, he'd smiled a self-deprecating smile she'd see on his lips more often than now that she was actually paying attention. _"People only see what they expect to see,"_ he'd said. _"And they expect to see the person I make them see."_

After moving into the tower (his home, another sign of her misjudgment) she'd seen who he really was. A kind, considerate, broken man. And yet she had done nothing about it. She'd been too proud to even apologize for how awful she'd been to him. It kept her awake, now, knowing she'd done something horrible and not knowing if she could fix it.

No. She _could_ fix it. Time for sitting around, hoping things would fix themselves, was over.

"We have to talk to him," she said, determination in her voice.

"Nat, you've seen the way he is around us," Sam tried to argue. "I didn't even know the guy all that well before this whole thing and he still looks like I've kicked his puppy every time he sees me."

"We can change that. We have to try. We've used his money, his hospitality, his time, and his gear for too long without so much as a thank you. I'm not saying we have to make some grand gesture like plead on our knees, but little things. Like giving him coffee, making him food for when he comes up to eat, keep clean so he doesn't have to do it- those sorts of things."

"You know what, that might actually be a good idea," Clint said thoughtfully. "The first time around, we didn't... we didn't talk. Not really. We didn't know each other. Therefore, we didn't _trust_ each other. If we want to try this again, we will need to communicate."

"Clint's right," Nat said, an air of finality to her voice. The small company looked at each other in silent agreement.

And so their plan was set in motion.

* * *

As they agreed, they did small things. Whenever the two geniuses came up for air, there'd be freshly brewed coffee and some sandwiches made for them. Whenever Peter wasn't around, they'd have FRIDAY alert him that there was a meal waiting for him. (FRIDAY had recognized the team's good intentions and had been more than happy to help them out.) Tony always gave them a bit of a suspicious look when he saw them lounging in the common room, but they only gave a friendly smile and went back to their activities. They didn't push him to talk to them, for which he seemed grateful. He took the food, though he didn't stay to eat it. He disappeared down to his lab, though he did meet Natasha's eyes for just a second. He nodded his gratitude before slipping out of sight. Natasha smiled. Maybe, all hope was not yet lost.

These little things continued on for a few weeks, the Avengers patiently waiting for Tony to warm up to them a bit more. They were three weeks into their new plan when Tony came upstairs. Alone. While everyone was there.

"Hey," he started, uncharacteristically awkward. His hair was tousled and he was dressed in his workshop clothes, but he didn't look like he'd been on an engineering binge. His eyes were bright and alert as they darted across the room.

"Hi," Nat answered, smiling softly. Tony breathed out, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Look," he started. "I-I know what you guys are trying to do. And I appreciate your efforts, I really do. I just- I can't just... get over this. You know what I mean? I mean, it was pretty bad, and, like, all of you betrayed me and shit and I know that I wasn't exactly innocent in all of this, I made some pretty big mistakes. Hell, I probably could've avoided everything if I just talked beforehand but well-" He took a deep breath and held it for a second before forcefully breathing back out. He groaned, raking a hand through his hair. "Look, all I wanna say is that I'm trying, okay? To-to deal with all... this." He gestured from himself to the others with his hands. "But it's, it's harder than I'd expected."

"Tony, we get that," Nat said softly, noticing Tony getting himself worked up. "We're not expecting you to forgive us yet. Or ever, really. We know we messed up, Tony. Not just in the civil war, we messed up way before then. We were never a good team. We never talked to each other, barely trusted each other. Hell, we lied to each other on a daily basis. And I hate myself for not seeing it then, but Tony, we used you. We used your money, your house, your generosity, and never gave anything in return. We want to make that right."

"Yeah, man," Sam spoke up. "We might not have known each other well, but you gave me those dope wings and I repaid you by paralyzing your best friend." Tony drew in a sharp breath at the reminder. He opened his mouth, but Sam interrupted. "Don't give me none of that 'it wasn't your fault' kinda bullshit. It was, at least partly. And I never really apologized for that. So, I'm sorry, man. And when you see Rhodes, tell him I'm sorry too." Tony seemed to think that over before nodding slowly.

"I will. Thank you." Sam nodded.

"Well, while we're all apologizing and shit," Clint spoke up, trying to keep a joking tone but unable to hide his shame. "I'm sorry too, man. Not just for fighting you, but like Natasha said, I used you, man. I kept complaining about my bow and you always just fixed it, no complaints. I was an ass, Tony. In the raft, too. I shouldn't have said that. That, that was just cold. I'm really sorry."

"Yeah, that's- that's okay. That's fine," Tony said, not looking at them as he played with his fingers. Natasha smiled sadly. Emotions never had been his strong suit.

"How is he?" Clint asked softly. Tony looked up, seemingly searching Barton's eyes for a second before lowering his gaze again.

"He's good. He's walking. Made him some braces, physical therapy's taking care of the rest."

"I'm glad," Natasha said, showing Tony a rare real smile. Tony's lips quirked upward for a fraction of a second.

"Stark, I-I want to apologize as well," Wanda spoke softly. "I didn't have any of the facts that proved you were the one to kill my parents. I saw your name on the bomb and just... assumed. What I did was horrible. I shouldn't have tried to get revenge on you. I apologize."

"Sheesh, uh, okay. Yeah, good." Tony was a bit overwhelmed. He'd never expected _Wanda_ of all people to apologize.

"I know you don't want me to," Bucky began from his corner, "but I wanna apologize too. I might not entirely have been the one to kill your parents, but I did attack you in the bunker instead of trying to calm you down like I should've. And I'm sorry for that."

"That's okay, Terminator," Tony said softly. "I-I get it. Thank you. Thank you all."

Everyone gave a solemn nod as he looked at them gratefully. He cleared his throat.

"Anyway, lovely seeing you all, but I really should get back. Got a world to revolutionize and all that."

"We'll have some coffee ready for you," Nat said.

Tony locked their eyes and smiled. It was a small, weak smile, but a smile nonetheless. And, as Tony disappeared out of sight once more, Nat decided that that's the best thing they could've gotten.

* * *

Slowly but surely, Tony started opening up. He would drink his coffee in the kitchen sometimes, not always actively being part of a conversation but being there nonetheless. The others would greet him, sometimes even asking about his work. He even seemed to come up more often than usual. Natasha figured he must be lonely down in that lab, and people showing genuine interest must be pretty revelating. Well, people he hadn't made out of bolts and screws, that is. Point is, they'd gotten further with Tony. His intern, however, didn't share the new trust Tony seemed to have put in the Avengers.

It was Friday, and as per usual, Peter was right behind Tony as they stepped out of the elevator. He stopped short when he saw the group of 'heroes' lounging around the kitchen area. Tony didn't seem to notice his intern's hesitance as he strode purposefully to where his holy coffee was waiting for him. 

"Um, Mr. Stark?" Peter called. Tony hummed. "We could just get coffee downstairs. Or at a coffee shop or something."

"Nah, this coffee tastes better. Morning guys."

"Good afternoon, Tony," Nat smiled. Tony looked up at that, then at his watch, and back up at Natasha again.

"Huh," was all he said. He reached for the coffee already waiting for him on the counter, giving a pleased hum as the holy aroma reached his nose. Peter didn't look as happy. He eyed the Avengers with distaste as he reached for the fridge, pulling out his juice box. He sat down at the kitchen island, giving the Avengers his best death glare as he loudly sipped his juice. 

"So, what are you two cooking up down there?" Clint asked.

"Nothing much," Tony shrugged, already refilling his mug. "Little bit of this, little bit of that, you know how it is."

"So nothing revolutionary? No flying cars?"

Tony gave him an unimpressed look.

"Please. That's way too easy."

Clint threw his hands up in defeat. "Of course, it is."

"We're mostly just working on the suits and calculus homework," Tony shrugged, downing his second cup of coffee.

"Right, and we should really get back to it," Peter announced as he got up from his seat, throwing his empty juice box in the trash. Tony frowned.

"You drank that juice in record time," he commented. Peter scoffed.

"You're one to talk. Most people take the time to actually _taste_ the coffee before they swallow it." Tony frowned, putting down his mug from where he was about to refill it again.

"Okay, what's up with this attitude and why am I only seeing it now?"

"Nothing. Can we just go?" Peter said, clearly annoyed. He avoided Tony's piercing gaze.

"What's wrong, kid? A minute ago you were just fine. What changed?"

"Fine!" Peter snapped. "You know what's changed? Them!" He gestured towards the Avengers lounging around the room. "They're not supposed to be here! How could you let them live here like kings after what they did to you? How could you let them use your stuff and- and _invade_ your home like this after they betrayed you without a second thought? Have you forgotten what they did to you, to Rhodes? Mr. Stark, how could you _ever_ forgive them?!"

Peter was left panting after his rant, his face red in anger and his fists balled. Tony sighed.

"Pete, we can't hold onto everything. Sometimes we gotta let go-"

"Let go?" Peter seethed. "Let. Go? Barnes killed your parents and Rogers _lied_ to you about it. Wandy tried to _murder_ you based on faulty facts. And all of these people beat you up, turned their backs on you after everything you'd done for them!"

"You really think I don't know that?!" Tony finally snapped. Peter reared back in shock but didn't back down. Tony sighed, running a hand down his face. "Look, kid. I've done that, okay? I've held onto these sorts of things. After people betrayed me, I held onto it. I held onto it so tight, it nearly killed me. These people apologized. They admitted to me that they had been in the wrong, even went as far as to forgive _me_. And before you say anything, yes, I _did_ have things to apologize for. I made mistakes too, Peter, and they're not holding onto that, either. They asked for forgiveness, they told me they wanted to try again. And- God, Peter, that's all I wanted. If I held onto it now, it _would_ kill me. This way, we have a chance of fixing things."

Peter looked down, his fists still balled as he blinked away his tears.

"I didn't just forgive and forget, alright?" Tony said, his voice gentle. "We're not moving past it like it never happened. We're accepting that it did happen and that there's nothing any of us can do to change it. We're trying to do it right, this time. We're trying to communicate. I..." another sigh. "I haven't had a depressive episode in weeks, Pete. I no longer jump at my shadow because I know I no longer have anything in this tower to fear. We're trying, kid, and we're getting somewhere." Peter still wasn't meeting his gaze. Tony looked at him sadly. 

"It'd mean a lot to me if you were with me on this, kid. I need you on my side."

Peter was breathing heavily, fighting to keep the tears at bay.

"But they _betrayed_ you," he said through clenched teeth, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I know, Peter. Lots of people have. The difference between them is that these people have acknowledged that, and they know it was the wrong thing to do. They're trying to make it right, Peter."

Peter tried to breathe evenly through his nose as he let his mentor's words sink in. He was right, of course he was. But Peter was just so _mad_. And yet he was so incredibly sad at the same time.

"They didn't see you, Mr. Stark," he said, fighting to keep his voice even.

"What?"

"They didn't see you that night. The night I came to see you. They didn't see what they'd done to you. You had given up, Mr. Stark. On them, on yourself, on your _life_. They didn't see you when you had that heart attack, or the panic attack, or any of that stuff. They didn't see the end result of their actions, they didn't see what they'd done to you!"

By the end Peter was shouting again, hot tears running down his face. He was shaking, either out of anger or the effort it took to keep in his sobs. Maybe a mix of both. Tony stayed silent as Peter's words hung heavy in the air.

"No, we didn't." Natasha's voice was quiet and heavy with shame. "I know he wouldn't want us to see it either, but we would have deserved it. We should have seen the repercussions that followed our actions. We were wrong, Peter. All of us were. And you have all the right to be angry at us. We deserve it. But we _are_ trying to fix things, we're trying to do better this time. You don't have to believe us right now, but please, keep an open mind. Allow us the chance to change it."

Peter looked around the room to see guilty faces looking back at him before his eyes settled on his dejected mentor.

"Please, Peter," he pleaded. "Just give them a chance."

Peter angrily wiped his sleeve across his face.

"Fine. But one step out of line and you're dead, hear me?" It didn't come out nearly as threatening as he'd hoped, what with tears still running down his face, his voice stuffy and breaking.

"Thank you, Peter," Clint said sincerely. 

"Yeah well... don't make a habit of it," Peter mumbled, averting their gazes. Now that most of the anger had faded, he felt embarrassed about his outburst and his crying. The room was awkwardly silent for a while, Tony fidgeting with his mug. He really didn't know how to handle a crying child.

"Okay, well..." He cleared his throat. "We gotta bounce. Lots of flying cars to build, and all that." He waved his hands in the air before walking purposefully out of the room. He was halfway when he realized he'd forgotten his precious coffee, but he mourned in silence as he kept walking. Awkward tension was really far out of his comfort zone. However, when Peter came to stand next to him in the elevator, he held out the mug filled with the glorious liquid. He glanced at the kid, who managed a cheeky smile through his drying tears.

"Gimme that," Tony said, snatching the mug from the boy's hand. He hesitated before scolding himself and reaching out to ruffle the kid's messy curls. It elicited a giggle out of the kid, and Tony felt some of the heaviness fall from his shoulders. By the time the doors opened to show the workshop and their safe haven, both were feeling lighter than they had in a while.

* * *

Of course, all good things come to an end. Tony knew this was coming. He didn't know when, he didn't know why, but he knew that it was waiting for them. Which why he was disappointed when FRIDAY announced the arrival of the infamous 'Captain America', but far, _far_ from surprised. 

They had been doing so well lately. Peter had kept to his promise and no longer outright glared whenever he saw an Avenger whenever he came over. He'd actually been talking to some of them, even going as far as to start the conversation. Tony had been doing so well. He'd been eating regularly, he'd been smiling, and he'd been outright _laughing_. He no longer felt like the weight of the entire world was on his shoulders. The cold he'd been feeling since Siberia was slowly being replaced by a warm, fuzzy feeling, one that he could definitely get used to. 

And then Rogers had to come and screw it all up.

"Boss, Captain Rogers has entered the building. He's refusing to leave."

Tony sighed in resignation.

"Great."

"Tony." Nat stopped him from walking towards the door with a hand on his arm. "You don't have to. We can chase him away."

"No," Tony shook his head, "I need to do this. I can't just ignore him forever. And who knows, maybe common life has changed him."

"At least let us come with you," she insisted. Tony was about to refuse when Nat gave him a look. "Don't be stupid, Tony. You don't have to do this on your own."

"Ugh, fine," he said, pretending to be annoyed but feeling all warm and giddy inside at her offer.

So that's how Tony Stark eventually exited the elevator with the Black Widow and Hawkeye, Ant-Man, Falcon, Scarlet Witch, the deadly assassin soldier, and Spider-Man. Well, Peter, because he wanted Steve to "look into my eyes and cower in fear". In his words. Tony had just laughed and ruffled his hair.

As promised, the one and only Steve Rogers was throwing a fit at the security guards who refused to let him through. As soon as he saw the team approach, he turned his anger on them. Or more specifically, on Tony.

"What the hell is wrong with your guards, Stark?" He yelled. "They refuse to let me in!"

"That's because I told them to," Tony answered calmly as he came to a stop a safe distance away from the angry 'Captain'.

"Why?" Steve growled.

"Because you're not welcome here."

"Why not? I deserve to be here just as much as you do!"

"Oh, really? Do you pay the rent?" Tony asked innocently. "Do you pay the people who work here? Do you even pay for the food, for the clothing that you use?"

"... No."

"Really?" Tony asked, acting shocked, a hand dramatically over his chest. "Well, I do. This building is also, funnily enough, signed to _my_ name. That would mean I'd deserve to be here just a bit more than you, right? It also gives me the right to keep certain people out. People like you. So... out." He pointed towards the door.

"You can't command me to do anything! Tony, this is my house!"

"No, it's not!" Peter yelled. "And it never has been! He's told you kindly to leave multiple times. If you don't get your patriotic ass out that door _right now,_ I can promise you I won't be as kind." Steve's eyes widened in panic. His eyes raked over the group, but stoic faces were all that met his gaze.

"Buck, please..." he tried, pleading for his best friend to listen. "I need to look after you. We're brothers, remember? Till the end of the line."

"And the line ends here," Bucky said, his voice emotionless. "You've had your chance. But all you did was control me like I had no will of my own. If that's what I wanted I would've stayed with HYDRA." Steve physically reeled back in shock. "Tony treats me like a person. Until you can do the same thing, I don't want anything to do with you. Get out."

Hurt flashed across Steve's face. Tony began to feel bad. His best friend had rejected him. Maybe he should give him another chance?

All those thoughts flew out the window when Steve's raging gaze met his.

" _You_." Steve spat the word like it was poison. " _You_ did this. You corrupted him, bent him to your will. You killed my best friend!" He charged for Tony, pushing aside the guards like they weighed nothing. Before Tony could do anything more than take a shocked step back, Peter was in front of him, a loud smack echoing through the room. Steve's head snapped to the side, his nose bleeding sluggishly. That's when Tony realized what had happened. Peter Parker, his intern, his _kid_ , had broken Captain America's nose.

"Listen to me, _captain_ ," he spat. "You're gonna turn around and walk out that door and never come back in again. You're gonna go back to whatever hell you crawled out of and you're gonna be grateful for the fact that you even got to walk out at all, got that?"

Steve Rogers hightailed out of the building.

"Damn, kid," Tony said after a few seconds of shocked silence. Peter turned around, grabbing his shocked mentor's hand and all but dragging him back to the elevator.

"Let's go," he grumbled.

"Yeah, okay," Tony stuttered out, letting his mentee drag him along. Once the elevator opened to reveal the common room, Peter quickly dumped him on the couch before stomping towards the kitchen, grumbling something about making the best damned coffee the man had ever had. Tony let it happen, still somewhat shell shocked. The others moved to the couches and chairs around him. Nat dat down next to him, putting her toes under his thigh.

"That's a good kid you got there," she said softly. Tony looked back at the teenager rummaging in the kitchen and smiled.

"Yeah," he said, smiling despite himself. "Yeah, he is."

* * *

Later that day, when the sun was just barely peeking over the horizon, Tony gazed around at his makeshift family unceremoniously strewn around the room. His eyes settled on the kid curled against his side, and he tightened his arm around the boy's shoulder. He smiled softly, thanking his lucky stars for having these people in his corner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh I hate having to make endings, they're even harder than making up a title but whatever I guess.
> 
> I finally have vacation, but I'm going to be absent for the next to weeks. Nevertheless, if anyone has anything they'd like to see me write (on this story or a separate one), leave it in the comments or message me on [Tumblr](https://demarvelbunny.tumblr.com)
> 
> Stay inside and stay healthy! <3


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